Family Ties That Bind
by Elizabeth Anthony-Ashley
Summary: Amarantha McMahon, adopted daughter of Vince and Linda, grows up and discovers that there is more to her adopted brother, Shane, than she ever knew. (contains sexual content with incestual undertones, adult language, and angst)


  
  
Family Ties That Bind--Story One of "The Amaranth Series"  
  
  
  
  
Amarantha McMahon awoke in her bed on a sunny Friday morning with one thing on her mind-stealing her father's car.   
  
Actually, he wasn't her father. Vince and Linda McMahon had adopted her when she was seven, pulling her from the   
foster home in Massachusetts that had been her home since she was born. Her mother "couldn't deal with the pressures   
of being a mother" and had dumped her there shortly after her birth. Amarantha bit her lower lip, a nasty habit her father   
had been trying to break her of for some time. Yeah, she thought bitterly, you can handle the pressures of lying on your   
back to make fifty bucks, but you can't handle taking care of your kid. Vince and Linda had kept no secrets from her in   
the 11 years that she had lived with them. She knew that her mother was a whore, and it didn't bother her. It only made  
her determined to never turn out like her mother.   
  
Though Vince and Linda weren't her natural parents, they had given her everything. They had always treated her like one  
of their own, and Shane and Stephanie had been the best siblings she could have hoped for, with few exceptions.   
Stephanie had some animosity toward her when she was younger. They weren't relatively close in age, a six-year gap   
making Amarantha the new baby of the family, and Stephanie had been it until Amarantha had come along. Stephanie   
wasn't exactly thrilled about sharing her family's attention with someone new. Those ill feelings had disappeared after   
the skating accident when Amarantha was 13. The ice beneath Stephanie's feet had cracked, and Amarantha had pulled   
her from the freezing water before it was too late. Since then, they were very close. They shared a bedroom for a few   
years until both girls begged their father to build a wall, splitting the room in half because they were getting on each other's   
nerves.   
  
Shane had instantly taken Ama, as he called her, under his wing. He played the protective older brother role perfectly, but  
more so where Amarantha was concerned. Amarantha adored him, and she was never in need of hearing, "I love you, little  
sis" from him. He had waited up for her after every date and the three proms that she had attended since starting high   
school. Shane drove her around like a faithful chauffeur, until she had gotten her license under his teaching. Sometimes   
his protective tendencies annoyed her, but she was thankful that she had him.   
  
In her vehicular larceny escapades, Amarantha had taken her brother's BMW first. She knew that he wouldn't be too upset   
about it. Her father refused to buy her a car of her own, feeling that she wasn't experienced enough to have such a big   
responsibility. She had asked for her dream car, a purple Jeep, for her sixteenth birthday-instead, she got her own   
computer. The gift was appreciated because she had been using Shane's for years, but it wasn't a Jeep. Amarantha asked  
for the Jeep again when she turned 17-instead, her father had taken her to Europe. The two-week vacation alone with her   
father had been great, and she had seen so many amazing things, but still, it wasn't a Jeep. Finally, she had turned 18, the  
age of passage, and Amarantha was sure that Shane would pick her up from school, and the Jeep would be sitting in the   
driveway waiting for her when they arrived home. They pulled into the driveway-no Jeep. Instead, she found a plane ticket   
to Paris for the day to go on a shopping spree with Shane, and she had no credit limit. Of course, she was ecstatic   
because clothes were one of her passions, but STILL, it wasn't a damn Jeep.   
  
The day had come to take matters into her own hands. Amarantha climbed out of her purple canopy bed, padding softy   
across the plush purple carpet to the adjoining bathroom. She slipped out of her purple silk nightgown and let the hot water  
wash over her, all the time going over her plan in her head.   
  
Vince always came home for lunch at noon. That's when she would make her move. While he was having lunch with her   
mother at the far end of the house, Amarantha would come in, kiss him hello, and then proceed out the front door to where  
her father's burgundy Jeep Cherokee (dammit, he had a Jeep!) would be sitting in the driveway, keys still in it. The way she   
looked at it, he was just begging for her to steal it if he always left the keys in the ignition.   
  
She would be home free from there, until her father realized that she had taken the Jeep, and then sent Shane out to find   
her, or called the police. Vince wasn't one to jump to conclusions, so she was betting, and hoping, that he would first use the   
Shane Patrol to locate her before pulling the local law enforcement agency into things. The reprimand that would follow her return   
in bondage to the Greenwich mansion would be severe, but nothing that she couldn't handle. She'd been punished before, but this  
time, her offense would make her father stand up and realize that he needed to buy his daughter a Jeep if he didn't want her to   
continue stealing his.   
  
Amarantha jumped out of the shower and wrapped her dripping hair in a purple towel, then wrapped her body in another one.  
A huge cloud of steam rushed out of the bathroom as she exited, and Amarantha breathed the refreshingly cool air deeply  
into her lungs until she coughed. She pounded her chest with her fist. Gotta stop smoking, she thought.   
  
Shane didn't bother her about many things, but her smoking was something that he hated. Of course, he didn't back up his  
position very well because he had been the one to give her a steady supply of cigarettes until she had turned old enough to  
buy them for herself. (He, himself, was fond of a cigar every now and then to make matters worse.) He always gave in   
when she stuck out her lower lip and made her eyes water so she could cry crocodile tears. There was nothing that he   
could deny her when she pulled that "finisher" on him.   
  
Amarantha crossed the room to her vanity and immediately contradicted her earlier resolution by fishing her cigarettes out  
of her purse and pulling the hidden ashtray (purple, of course) out from the bottom drawer of the vanity. She lit the cigarette  
with a silver lighter she had "borrowed" from Shane, took a drag off the cigarette, then put it in the ashtray just as there was  
a knock at the door.   
  
"Who is it?" she demanded, ready to hide the incriminating evidence if necessary.   
  
"It's Shane, Ama, open up," her older brother's voice called from the other side of the door.   
  
"It's open, Shay," she answered, turning back to her vanity. The door opened as she pulled out her purple glitter make-up   
case.   
  
Shane entered the room and shut the door behind him. He looked at the cigarette burning in the ashtray and shook his   
head. "Ama, I wish you wouldn't do that."   
  
Amarantha was in mid-foundation application (not purple.) "I know."   
  
"Promise me you'll quit soon," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.   
  
"I promise," she responded dryly.   
  
He stepped forward, the pinky finger of his right hand extended. She looked at it reluctantly. "Shay…" she whined.   
  
He stood firm. "Come on, Amarantha. You know you have to do it. Give me your finger."   
  
Amarantha sighed, resigning to the fate she had bee accustomed to since she was little. The pinky-swear was the most  
sacred promise between them, and refusal to accept a proffered pinky was a fate worse then death. She had made   
countless pinky swears with Shane, and not once had she ever broken one. They took the childish agreement seriously.   
  
She extended her pinky and locked it up with her brother's. "Why do you have to torture me like this?"   
  
Shane withdrew his hand and stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders. "Because I don't want to keep a bed-side vigil  
when you are 80 and in the hospital, dying of lung cancer."  
  
Amarantha shook her head. "Shay, when I'm 80, you'll be 92, so I'll be sitting beside your bed. Besides, you smoke cigars.  
You'll be dying of lung cancer, too."  
  
Shane smiled, gently kneading the tense muscles of her neck. Shane had always given the best backrubs. "Nope. I plan   
on living forever."  
  
"Just like Dad," she replied, reaching for her eye-pencil. "Honestly, Shane, with an ego like that, it's a wonder the two of you  
can get through the door."  
  
Shane pinched her on the side of the arm. She yelped and drove her elbow into his stomach. "Don't start what you can't   
finish, little girl," he warned.  
  
Amarantha stood up from the vanity and disappeared behind an authentic Chinese dressing screen that her mother had   
picked up on her last trip overseas. Quickly, she shed the towel, leaving it in a pile on the floor, and pulled on the black   
stretch pants and purple three-quarter sleeve top that she had laid out the night before so she wouldn't spend an hour in front  
of her closet, trying to select the perfect outfit in which to steal her father's beloved Jeep.   
  
As soon as she was dressed, she returned from behind the screen and leaped at Shane, who was ready for her attack. The  
two rolled around the floor like they had done for years, trying to get the other to tap out as quickly as possible.   
Amarantha's technique was to squeeze Shane around the ribs, a particularly sensitive spot after many a battle in the ring.   
She usually failed miserably because he knew just where to tickle her, in the spot just beneath her arm. It was only a few   
seconds before she was pounding the floor, seized by an uncontrollable fit of laughter.  
  
Shane released her and collapsed back on to the floor. "I'm getting too old for this, Ama."  
  
She smiled, sitting up and releasing her wet hair from the towel that had fallen during the scuffle. "Ha, Old Man. You'll   
never be too old. It will just be easier for me to kick your ass."  
  
He raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me, I do believe that your record is zero wins and about a million losses. You couldn't   
even beat me when I had one hand tied behind my back."  
  
Amarantha crossed her arms over her chest, pouting. "Well, that will change soon. I've been formulating a new plan of   
attack."  
  
"We'll see," he scoffed.  
  
Amarantha pushed herself up from the floor and slid back into the vanity chair, mashing out the remains of the wasted   
cigarette. Perhaps that had been Shane's plan all along…She continued to apply the rest of her make-up before Shane   
had the chance to distract her any further.  
  
"So, what are your plans for this fine day?" Shane asked, propping himself up on his hands.  
  
Amarantha nearly gasped. Does he know something? For some reason, she had never been able to lie to her brother. He  
always saw through the fantastic lies she cooked up that always fooled her parents and Stephanie. Amarantha was sure   
he was a mind reader.  
  
"Nothing in particular," she responded, calmly. Did her voice sound guilty? Was she giving away something inadvertently?   
She could never be too careful around Shane.  
  
"Why don't I believe you?" he asked, standing up behind her.  
  
"I haven't the slightest idea," she answered, keeping her eyes on her reflection. If he got her to look him in the eyes, it   
would only be a matter of time until she spilled the whole thing to him.  
  
"Amarantha, look at me," he intoned gravely.  
  
Damn! It's over now. Amarantha raised her dark eyes reluctantly. "I thought that I would do a little sightseeing around   
town. Maybe go for a little drive."  
  
Shane paused, studying her. "Ama, you can't steal Dad's car."  
  
Amarantha pounded her fist against the vanity, rattling the assortment of personal hygiene products assembled there.   
"Dammit, how do you always know?"  
  
"It's a gift, and don't curse," he answered, shaking his head at her. "I'm serious, Ama. You can't steal the Jeep. You won't   
see the light of day for months when he finds out about it."  
  
"I don't care, Shay," she snapped, dragging a brush through her slowly drying locks. "He won't get me the damn Jeep that I   
want, so I'll just have to take his."  
  
"That's your master plan?" he laughed, arching his eyebrows at her. "You think that will prove to him that you are responsible  
enough to have your own car? Oh, Ama, you should know him better than that."  
  
"I'm going to do it, Shay, and you can either hinder or help me by keeping your mouth shut," she responded, her pride hurt   
by his jokes.  
  
He squeezed the bridge of his nose, chuckling. "Fine. Do what you want. I won't say a word, but believe me, I will enjoy   
seeing him punish you."  
  
Amarantha turned around to face him. "Thank you, Shay."  
  
"Don't say that I didn't warn you," he replied.  
  
She rolled her eyes, and turned back around to the vanity. Ignoring Shane's groan of disapproval, she lit another cigarette,   
flipping the lighter to him. "I got this for you."  
  
He peered quizzically at the lighter before looking up at her. She took a drag off the cigarette before putting it into the   
ashtray for safekeeping.   
  
"Hey, this is mine! You little thief!"  
  
This time, Amarantha was ready for his attack.  
  
  
  
  
  
Half an hour later, Amarantha emerged from her bedroom, her long dark brown hair perfectly styled and her make-up   
flawlessly applied. She paused to check her reflection in the mirror in the hall, sighing at the girl who stared back at her.   
  
She looked nothing like the rest of the McMahon family. Shane was as pale as a ghost, while she had dark, naturally   
tanned skin. Stephanie had natural beauty, and the make-up she wore in the ring only made her look like the two-dollar   
slut that everyone said she was. She didn't need make-up. She was thin and petite, while Amarantha had to watch what   
she ate to keep off those extra ten pounds that made her run in fear when bikini season rolled around-it was steadily   
approaching.  
  
Amarantha shook her head and continued down the hall, slinging her Gucci purse over her shoulder. She descended the   
front stairs, spying her father's Jeep parked in the driveway. She took a deep breath. Here goes nothing, she thought.  
  
On her trip toward the veranda at the far end of the house where her mother and father ate both breakfast and lunch, she   
passed Shane, slumped in a chair and flipping channels on the television disinterestedly. He shook his head as she   
passed and blew her a kiss. Shane really was a pal. He understood her need to rebel against their father, the way he never   
had. Rebellion was just in Amarantha's nature.  
  
Amarantha breezed through the kitchen, placing her purse on the counter so her mother and father wouldn't think anything   
was amiss. Vince smiled as he saw his youngest daughter coming through the veranda doors.  
  
"Good afternoon, Princess," he said cheerily.  
  
Amarantha kissed her mother on the cheek and then walked to her father, kissing him on the cheek as well. The smell of   
his cologne greeted her, and Amarantha smiled. That was her father's smell, Polo cologne, and whenever she was in the   
mall, she always stopped by the men's counter in the perfume section to spray the scent onto a complimentary card that   
she kept tucked into her purse. She remembered Shane spraying it onto her pillow when her father had to be away on   
business for days at a time. It always comforted her and made her feel better when she missed him. Shane still did that,   
even though she was grown.  
  
"Good afternoon, Daddy. How is everything at Titan?" she asked, pretending to be interested. Nothing about the family   
business held any interest to her, except the thought of actually being inside the ring, commanding the attention of the   
audience the way all McMahons did. Vince would hear nothing of it. Shane and Stephanie were already deeply involved in   
the company, and he didn't feel that his youngest daughter needed to join the ranks of them. Amarantha had no doubt from   
where Shane's protective nature had come.  
  
"Everything is fine, Princess," he answered, smiling up at her. "How is everything with you?"  
  
"Good," she replied, crouching down beside him. "I just got my final grade report. Thankfully, I did well."  
  
"Of course you did. You're a McMahon. And besides, they wouldn't have let you graduate if you hadn't," he said, getting   
defensive.  
  
Linda looked up from the book she was reading. "That reminds me. You need to get those thank you notes written and   
addressed by the end of the week, young lady."  
  
Amarantha groaned inwardly. "Yes, ma'am."  
  
"Do you have any plans tonight, Princess?" her father asked, taking a bite of the salad he was having for lunch.  
  
I won't once you ground me for what I'm about to do. "No, Daddy. Why?"  
  
"Well, I've got my schedule cleared out, and I thought that maybe you and your brother would like to take in a game of golf,"   
he answered. "Steph has plans tonight."  
  
Amarantha smiled. She and Shane had been playing miniature golf with their father since they were old enough to hold   
clubs. Shane had gotten pretty good over the years, but Amarantha hadn't improved one bit. She still loved to play.  
  
"That sounds great, Daddy," she cooed, knowing that he would be in no mood for golfing when she saw him next.  
  
"Wonderful. Be ready to go at 6:30," Vince replied, turning back to his salad.  
  
That signaled that the conversation was over between them. Amarantha rose to her feet. "Well, I'll be inside working on   
those thank you notes," she said dryly.  
  
"That's my girl," her mother said, paying little attention to her.  
  
Casually, Amarantha went back through the doors and scooped her purse up off of the counter. She had to stay calm if her   
plan was going to work. She passed the den again, and she saw that Shane had fallen asleep, remote control still in hand.   
She smiled, shaking her head at the sight of her older brother. With careful steps, she passed by and headed out the front  
door, closing it behind her silently.  
  
There it was-the forbidden fruit in the garden of McMahon-her father's Jeep. It was his favorite of all the vehicles that he   
owned. He kept it immaculately clean, and there wasn't a nick or scrape on it, though he had recently been involved in a   
fender-bender. Thankfully, the Vince-mobile hadn't been damaged. Amarantha didn't want to imagine the consequences   
for the poor fool who had hit her father.  
  
She stealthily padded over to the Jeep, the heels of her shoes clicking softly on the blacktop. She opened the door holding  
her breath, afraid that if she breathed, it might set off some silent internal alarm that would alert her father to her devious   
deed. Amarantha slid into the driver's seat. It felt as though it had been made especially to hug the curves of her body.   
The keys were dangling from the ignition, her father's favorite key chain reading "The Boss" on it still swinging from its last   
use only a few moments before Amarantha turned the key. The Jeep started up almost without sound. She thanked the   
heavens for her father's obsessive-compulsive need to have the Jeep sent into the shop for fine-tuning every three weeks.  
  
Music from the radio blared for only a second before Amarantha leaned over and turned off the sound. The music would be   
loud soon enough, but for now, absolute silence was imperative. Carefully, she put the Jeep into reverse, taking care to   
edge it down directly in the center of the driveway. As soon as she hit the street, she shifted to drive and hit the gas.   
Mercifully, the tires didn't squall, and seconds later she was coasting down the "mean streets" of Greenwich.   
  
Amarantha leaned over and fished her CD case from its hiding place in her purse. She selected the one she wanted and   
popped it into the player, turning the volume to the maximum. The sounds of the new Bon Jovi record (Bon Jovi was her   
absolute favorite) filtered through the speakers moments later, and Amarantha sang at the top of her lungs as she sped   
away from the McMahon estate…  
  
  
It's my life and it's now or never  
I ain't gonna live forever  
I just wanna live while I'm alive  
It's my life, my heart is like an open highway  
Like Frankie said, I did it my way  
I just wanna live while I'm alive  
It's my life…  
  
  
  
Amarantha drove past her old high school, a cigarette between her fingers. Just the sight of the building made her stomach   
turn. Freshman year had been miserable for her. Being a McMahon wasn't the best thing in the world, especially where teenagers   
were concerned. They hated her for her last name. It was jealousy and spite, plain and simple, but the feeling of having people hate   
her for something she couldn't control was distressing to her.  
  
After the first day, Amarantha had come home sobbing after a particularly taxing bus ride. They called her "Silver Spoon"   
and "Little Rich Girl," and Amarantha had burst into tears on the spot. She ran up the driveway into Shane's open arms. He had   
been sitting on the front porch waiting for her to congratulate her on her first day and to ask her how it had gone, but instead, he   
wound up comforting her on the couch. From that day on, he had taken her to school and picked her up each day.   
  
Things had improved when she made the cheerleading squad because the majority of the school's popular girls were rich,   
too. Emerald Jackson, the captain of the squad and the only senior, immediately adopted Amarantha as her little sister and had   
shown her the ropes of the school. Emerald made her popular, by association, and when she graduated at the end of the year,   
Amarantha was heart broken. She had lost her best friend, though she and Emerald had kept up correspondence over the years.   
  
Emerald may have been gone, but her teaching had stayed with Amarantha, and when she started school as a sophomore,   
she was suddenly the girl to know. She had people she didn't even know coming up to her and asking to sit with her at lunch.   
Popularity was wonderful-superficial and shallow, but still wonderful. She had been the only sophomore to attend the Senior Prom,   
and it was a thrilling victory when she was crowned Homecoming Queen three years in a row, with her family watching from the   
front row.  
  
Her graduation party had been the one to attend, mainly because the guest list was comprised of mostly wrestlers and   
other big names in the business. Amarantha's friends had gotten the biggest thrill of their lives when they walked in and found   
themselves seated next The Rock, Triple H, and Stone Cold Steve Austin.   
  
Being a McMahon wasn't always bad, either.  
  
Amarantha rounded the corner that led to her favorite place in the world. It was a large pond about ten minutes from the   
house, and she and Shane had discovered a secluded road that lead to the far side of the lake, away from everything and everyone   
else. She went there when things at home were too much, or when she needed to clear her mind and think. It was the most perfect  
place in the universe, and only she and Shane knew about it. It was their special place. Stephanie had begged to be shown this   
secret world, and Shane had driven her to the center of town and convinced her that the town square was the "special place."   
Stephanie was content to believe it, and Amarantha and Shane always laughed about it behind their sister's back.  
  
Amarantha swiped the hair out of her face as she drove slowly down the road. Her father was probably just realizing that his  
precious Jeep was missing as was his daughter, and it wouldn't be long before Shane would be sent after her. The momentary   
peace that she had found would be disrupted, and she could do nothing about it. Shane was disgustingly loyal to Vince, and he   
wouldn't disobey him if it meant his life. Amarantha guessed it was the bond between father and son, or maybe Shane was afraid   
that if he pissed Vince off, he would be written out of the will and would be the heir apparent no longer.  
  
She reached the end of the road and turned off the Jeep. Amarantha swung her legs out the door and hopped out, walking   
around the Jeep to sit down on the rock where she and Shane had spent many an afternoon talking about nothing.  
  
Amarantha sighed deeply, looking out on the still water. The last few weeks had been stressful ones at the McMahon   
household. Her graduation had been a huge ordeal, for she was the last of the McMahon children to pass through high school.   
Amarantha would have been content to just grab her diploma and go home, skipping all the ceremony. Vince had made a big deal   
out of the whole thing. It could have been worse. Some parents didn't even show up to see their children graduate.  
  
Her graduation had come in the middle of a big deal going down at Titan, concerning two of the company's biggest   
sponsors. Vince, Linda, and Shane had all been putting in long workdays, leading to tense nights at home when the three of them  
came home in foul moods. To make matters worse, her mother and father hadn't been getting along very well. The damage done   
by the affairs years ago was still present, and Linda seemed to be growing sick of being Mrs. McMahon. Divorce was a horror that   
Amarantha didn't want to imagine. Shane and Marissa had been split up for almost six months, he had moved back into the house,   
and he was still having a hard time letting it go. If her parents divorced, the end of the world was sure to follow.  
  
Now that she had graduated, Amarantha wasn't sure what she was going to do with her life. She knew she would end up   
attending Boston University just like her brother and sister, but she didn't know what she wanted to do in college. Nothing besides   
being in the ring with her family interested her. She couldn't go through four years of school just to come out with a degree in   
Communications like Shane and Stephanie had, only to get a job at the reception desk of Titan. She wanted to be in the action   
now, to skip all the years of working her way up the ladder. If Vince had his way, her father would see to it that Amarantha never   
saw the inside of the ring. He was adamant, even going as far to rarely let her come to a taping or a live event. Something about   
the business scared him when it came to his youngest daughter.   
  
The desire to be a part of the action was growing stronger every day. She couldn't deny it any longer, and she couldn't   
stand the thought of suppressing it with years of school. Amarantha had enough of school, and she would have to do something   
about it if she ever hoped to get her chance-something more drastic then stealing her father's Jeep.  
  
  
  
  
Amarantha had been sitting beside the lake for 25 minutes before she heard Shane's BMW pull up beside the stolen Jeep.   
She didn't turn to look at him, only waited for him to come to her.  
  
"I tried to stall as long as I could," he said suddenly, climbing up to sit down beside her. "I drove around town a few times   
until he called my cell phone. I figured he'd get suspicious, jump the gun, and call the police. I gave you as long as I could."  
  
"Thanks, Shay," she said quietly still looking out on the water. "So, how did he take it?"  
  
Shane bit his lower lip, reminding Amarantha of herself. "I'd say the verdict is guilty as charged, 25 years to life without   
possibility of parole."  
  
"That bad?"   
  
He nodded. "I told you, Ama. He's never going to get you that Jeep now. I'd be surprised if he lets you ride a donkey   
after this."  
  
She shrugged, turning to look at him. "I don't care, Shay. I just don't care."  
  
"Ama, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice concerned. "I've noticed that you've been acting strangely for the past few days,   
but I didn't want to say anything. Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
Amarantha put her head on his shoulder. "Oh, Shay, it's everything. Mom and Dad and their fighting, you and Marissa   
getting divorced, me not wanting to go to college…just everything."  
  
"What do you mean you don't want to go to college?" he echoed, looking down at her strangely.  
  
"I don't want to go, Shay," she replied, burying her face in his chest. "I want to get in the ring. I want to be a part of the   
story line, and I don't want to go to B.U. like you and Steph."  
  
"Ama, you have to go to college, and Dad will never let you get in the ring," he answered softly, gently stroking her hair.   
"You have to have a future, and to have that, you have to get an education."  
  
"I don't want that future," she replied. "I want to lead my own fucking life, not the life that Dad wants me to live."  
  
"Ama, don't curse," Shane warned.  
  
She lifted up her head. "That's exactly what I'm talking about, Shay. I'm sick of being the baby of the family. I'm 18   
goddamn years old, and I think that I'm entitled to make my own decisions. I'm sick of everyone holding up a safety net for   
everything that I do. I want to be dangerous. I want to be able to fall flat on my fucking face without you or Dad running to catch   
me before I get hurt."  
  
"We only do it because we care about you," Shane responded, scratching his head. "You have to understand that."  
  
"I do understand that, Shay, but you have to understand that I've got to be allowed to make my own decisions!" The words  
just weren't getting through to him. "You can't keep me on a fucking leash for the rest of my life."  
  
Shane shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Ama. You've just figured out what it is to be a McMahon. There's always someone   
looking over your shoulder, and you have more responsibilities then you can imagine. It's just the price you pay to be a McMahon."  
  
She put her head back onto his chest. "Then I don't want to be a McMahon anymore."  
  
Shane didn't say anything.  
  
"I take that back," Ama said immediately. "If I wasn't a McMahon, then I couldn't have you for an older brother."  
  
"I love you, sis," Shane said quietly.  
  
"I love you, too, Shay," she responded. She lifted her head and pressed her lips to his in a quick peck.  
  
Something clicked inside her. What is that? What was that…thing…that I just felt?  
  
Shane looked at her for a moment, his eyes incredibly large and sad. He pressed his lips to hers again, quickly.  
  
What the fuck is going on? This is my older brother, for Christ's sake! What is happening?  
  
The voice inside Amarantha's head was long gone by the time she wrapped her arms around Shane's neck, and their lips   
met again, in a kiss that was less than pure. What are you doing, you crazy bitch? THIS IS SHANE! YOUR BROTHER SHANE!   
  
Amarantha had begun to feel Shane begin to kiss her back when he abruptly pulled away and climbed down from the rock.  
  
"Come on, Ama. We have to go," he stammered, keeping his head down. "Follow me home."  
  
Amarantha sat speechless as he climbed into his BMW and started the engine. She shook her head and slid down to the  
ground, dusting herself off, then headed to the Jeep.  
  
What in the hell just happened?  
  
  
  
  
"What the fuck did you think you were doing? Did you think I wouldn't fucking notice that you stole my goddamn Jeep?   
Do you have any brains? What if you had wrecked and we couldn't find you? Did you ever stop to think about that?"  
  
Amarantha sat on the couch, blocking the sounds of her father's voice from her head. It was difficult, however, to block out   
the stares she was getting from Shane, who was sitting across the room. The punishment she was about to receive was the   
farthest thing from her mind. What she was concentrating on was what had happened between she and Shane at the pond.  
  
That was a little more than a kiss between siblings. I don't feel bad about it either, what the fuck does that mean? We   
aren't really brother and sister, but still…  
  
"Amarantha Lorelei McMahon, are you even listening to me?" her father's voice broke through.  
  
She looked up at him. "Yes, Daddy. I said I was sorry."  
  
"Well, sorry isn't going to do it this time, young lady," he fired back at her. "Go to your room, and don't come out until you   
are told. I have to decide how to punish you."  
  
Amarantha stood up from the couch, breezed straight past Shane, and stormed up the stairs to her room. She wouldn't   
cry. Crying was a sign of weakness, and where Vince McMahon was concerned, weakness wasn't a possibility. He was as vicious   
in the ring as he was as home.  
  
"I SHOULD HAVE CRASHED YOUR FUCKING JEEP WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE!" She screamed at the top of her lungs   
before she slammed her door and sank to the floor beside it. She certainly had made a mess of things, with her father and where   
Shane was concerned. The events that took place at the pond consumed her mind, the feeling of the kiss still on her lips.  
  
Things between her and Shane were about to change forever.  
  
  
  
  
The clock beside her bed showed that it was three in the morning. Amarantha hadn't slept a bit. She hadn't left her room   
since slamming the door, refusing to come down for dinner. Shane had stood outside her locked door for half an hour begging her   
to come down and eat. She turned up her stereo all the way to block out the sound of his voice. Stephanie had come home around   
one and knocked on the door to see if she was awake. Amarantha didn't answer, but she heard Stephanie whisper, "It gets better,   
Ama. I promise it gets better." Amarantha had burst into tears at hearing those words. For some reason Stephanie had made   
sense, and that didn't happen often.  
  
Her bedroom window was open, and Amarantha stood enjoying the cool breeze, a relief from the heat of the day. She   
boredly fiddled with the strap of her purple silk nightgown, thinking about what to do.  
  
At 3:30, she quietly opened her bedroom, crept past her parents' bedroom and walked to Shane's. She carefully turned the  
knob and poked her head into the room to see if he was awake.  
  
"I'm up, Ama," his voice came from the darkness.  
  
She smiled and came the rest of the way into the room, closing the door behind her. She had been doing this since she   
was little. By that time, Shane was in college, and she would wait with anticipation for the days that he would come home for a visit   
so she could creep into his room well after midnight and crawl into bed with him when she couldn't sleep. He would sing softly to   
her until she fell asleep. Knowing he was there always made her feel safe.  
  
Amarantha crouched beside the bed, trying to see him in the darkness. Her eyes adjusted, and she saw that he was under   
the covers, his hands behind his head. "Can I?" she whispered.  
  
He nodded, scooting over. She slipped into the bed, under the covers, her feet tangling in her silk nightgown. She rested   
her head on the cool skin of his muscular chest that he always kept hidden beneath his baggy suits. The sound of his heart beating  
drowned out every other sound.  
  
"Ama, I need to tell you something," he whispered suddenly, breaking the silence of the room.  
  
"What is it, Shay?" she asked innocently, knowing full well that he was going to talk about what had happened that   
afternoon.  
  
"It's about what happened earlier at the pond," he answered. "I don't know what happened. I mean, you're my sister, for   
God's sake. That shouldn't have happened."  
  
"But it did happen, Shay," she replied, strumming her fingers on his chest. "What does that mean?"  
  
"I don't know. I mean, really you aren't my sister, but you are. That's what has stopped me before now…"  
  
"What do you mean?" she interrupted, her heart skipping a beat.  
  
"I mean, I've had-those feelings for you for some time, but I kept telling myself that you are my sister, blood or not, and that   
it is wrong," he answered flatly.  
  
Amarantha gasped. Is he trying to tell me that he loves me, in that way?  
  
"But today, listening to you talk about how you didn't want to be a McMahon anymore," he continued, "I don't know, it just   
made you less of a sister for some reason. Am I making any sense?"  
  
"Perfect," she whispered.  
  
"Do you mean, you've felt the same way?" he asked cautiously.  
  
"I think so, only I didn't know that it was that kind of love until now," she answered, not knowing from where the words she   
was speaking were coming. They just flowed out naturally, and Amarantha knew that it was her heart speaking.  
  
Before she knew what was happening, her lips were against his and she felt his hands on her body, touching her in a way   
that no one had ever done before. She melted against him, feeling more comfortable than she had ever felt. It was natural--this was   
Shane, her Shane. Suddenly, she was out of her nightgown, naked under the sheets with him. Then he was inside her, before   
either of them could stop it, and pain was shooting through her body. He was the first to be with her in that way, and when the pain   
subsided, and the yearning inside began, she knew that it was meant to be that way. Their tempo slowly increased, and soon,   
Amarantha was moving to meet his every thrust. His lips covered her mouth, stifling her moans, and she put her arms around his   
neck, pulling him to her. Waves of pleasure were suddenly washing over her, and he reached his peak soon after, spilling himself   
inside of her, and vaguely Amarantha realized that they hadn't used any protection. She didn't care when she felt his arms go   
around her, pulling her close.  
  
"Jesus Christ, Ama, what have we done?" he whispered quietly, his voice cracking.  
  
The regret in his voice made her eyes fill up with tears, and she realized exactly what had happened between them. Was it   
incest or not? They weren't related by blood, but this was Shane!  
  
"Oh, God," she choked on her tears. "I feel like we're Marsha and Greg Brady in that stupid sequel."  
  
He chuckled, and she could tell that he was crying too. "Ama, we can't let anybody know about this."  
  
She nodded, her tears falling on his pillow.  
  
"Go to sleep," he whispered, close to her ear. "We'll figure this out in the morning."  
  
"How can I possibly sleep now?" she asked, biting her lip.  
  
He didn't say anything, but then he started to sing softly, the same song he had sung for years, and old Gordon Lightfoot   
song she had had always loved. Amarantha smiled, despite the misery she was in, and listened quietly, drifting off to sleep with his  
voice surrounding her.  
  
  
If you could read my mind, love, what a tale my thoughts could tell  
Just like an old time movie 'bout a ghost from a wishing well  
In a castle dark, or a fortress strong with chains upon my feet  
You know that ghost is me  
And I will never be set free as long I'm a ghost that you can't see  
  
If I could read your mind, love, what a tale your thoughts could tell  
Just like a paperback novel, the kind that drugstores sell  
When you reach the part, where the heartaches come, the hero would be me  
But heroes often fail  
And you won't read that book again because the ending's just too hard to take  
  
I walk away like a movie star who gets burned in a three-way script  
Enter number two  
A movie queen to play the scene of bringing all the good things out in me  
But for now, love, let's be real  
I never thought I could act this way, and I've got to say that I just don't get it  
I don't know where we went wrong   
But the feeling's gone and I just can't get it back  
  
If you could read my mind, love, what a tale my thoughts could tell  
Just like an old time movie 'bout a ghost from a wishing well  
In a castle dark, or a fortress strong with chains upon my feet  
The story always ends  
  
If you read between the lines, you'll know that I'm just trying to understand  
The feelings that you lack  
I never thought I could feel this way, and I've got to say that I just don't get it  
I don't know where we went wrong  
But the feeling's gone and I just can't get it back  
  
  
  
The next morning, Amarantha awoke in Shane's bed alone, and quietly got dressed and slipped back down the hall to her   
own room. Before she could get into the safety behind the door, she heard her father's voice call from downstairs.  
  
"Amarantha, are you awake yet?" he yelled, his voice stern.  
  
She took a deep breath and walked to the rail, leaning over to look at him. "Yes, Daddy. I'm awake."  
  
He looked up at her, his eyes as cold as she had ever seen them. "Get ready. You're coming to work with me today."  
  
A day at Titan with her father was the worst punishment Amarantha could imagine. Hour after hour sitting in that office,   
listening to him answer calls and watching him look over paperwork-she would rather him ground her for the rest of her life.  
  
"But, Daddy…"  
  
He put up his hand. "I don't want to hear it. You're coming with me. Now hurry up because you'll make us late. I want   
you down here in fifteen minutes." He walked away and the conversation was through.  
  
Amarantha stomped her feet childishly. Dammit, this isn't fair! She stormed back to her bedroom and breezed through the  
door, being sure to add a slam for good measure. She didn't have time to shower, so she pulled on a long purple print skirt and a   
halter-top and then put a purple bandana over her messy hair. The curling iron got rid of a few of the rough spots, and Amarantha   
was just adding the finishing touches to her emergency make-up when she heard her father yelling from the foyer.  
  
"Amarantha Lorelei McMahon, I am not going to call you again! Get down here!" The tone in his voice told her that it wasn't   
going to be a very pleasant day at the office.  
  
Amarantha grabbed her purse, making sure her cigarettes were tucked away safely out of sight, and slipped on a pair of   
sandals and then headed down the stairs as quickly as she could.  
  
"Let's go, and I don't want to hear one word out you until we get to the office," he warned, pointing a finger at her.  
  
She nodded. "Where is Shane?"  
  
"He went out early this morning," Vince answered, heading for the door. "I think he mentioned something about spending   
the day with the Posse. I don't know. Why?"  
  
She shook her head. "I was just wondering. That's all."  
  
He rolled his eyes, opened the door, motioning for her to go through first, and then shut the door behind himself.  
  
Walking toward the Jeep, the object of her crime, Amarantha wished that she had listened to Shane and not taken it. She   
would be paying for her hour of pleasure for the rest of her life-Vince would make sure of it.  
  
  
  
  
Amarantha wanted to take the stapler that her father was using and staple herself to death. They had been at Titan for an   
hour, and she was ready to throw herself from the window. He hadn't said anything to her since they had left the house, and the   
silence was driving her mad. She would have much rather him yell, scream, and cuss at her than the damned silence. There he   
sat at his desk, looking over papers and stapling them in a steady rhythm that bore itself into her skull.  
  
"I can't take this!" she exclaimed, jumping up from the couch. "I've got to get out of here." She headed for the door.  
  
Her father didn't look up, and calmly asked, "Where do you think you're going?"  
  
She turned to look back at him. "I'm going to get a soda. I'm going to get some air. I'm going anywhere but here."  
  
"Don't try anything," he warned, stapling another set of papers. "I've got plenty of security in this building."  
  
"Nice touch, Daddy. Why don't you just put me in jail?" she snapped, opening the door.  
  
He looked up and smiled evilly. "Titan is worse than jail."  
  
She had to agree.  
  
  
  
  
"Good morning, Miss McMahon."  
  
"Nice to see you again, Miss McMahon."  
  
The more she heard it, the more she wished that she could change her name. Still, it was nice to be recognized by so   
many people, and to be instantly respected because of whose daughter she was. Titan was full of people just dying to kiss Vince's   
ass in hopes that he would promote them. Pathetic, she thought.  
  
The McMahon named demanded a sort of respect the likes of which Amarantha had never seen. They radiated authority,   
and people instantly felt the need to follow them. Titan Sports was where it was because her mother and father were absolutely   
ruthless when it came to business.  
  
Her father brought that ruthless attitude to the ring, and Shane was slowly starting to come around and follow in his father's   
footsteps. He was a nasty bastard in the ring, but outside it, he was something different.  
  
Amarantha sighed as she stepped into the elevator. Oh, Shane. What are we going to do? The events of the previous   
night were still fresh in her mind. They had committed a sin against the family and their relationship. It was disgusting and immoral,   
but for some reason, it didn't feel wrong when it was happening. It felt natural to be in his arms because she had spent her whole   
life there. He had always been there, when no one else was. Shane had been her savior more times then she could count.   
  
She looked down at her wrists, and the faint scars were still visible. She had slashed them a month after her seventeenth   
birthday, for a reason that she couldn't really remember. The pain of living in the McMahon house had become too much for her,   
and death seemed like the only alternative. It was stupid as she looked back, but it had been Shane who had found her just after   
she had done it. He cried with her as he held her in his arms, and bandaged and covered her wrists so that Vince and Linda   
wouldn't know what had happened. She had never told anyone else about her suicide attempt. Shane promised to never tell their parents, and they went about life as if it had never happened. The amount of trust between them was tremendous.  
  
The elevator opened on the first floor of the building, and Amarantha brushed past the people who were getting on, and their   
cries of "Good morning, Miss McMahon" and headed straight for the front door. She walked past the security guard who gave her a   
sideways glance. "Don't call in the cavalry," she snapped. "I'm just going around the side of the building for some air. I won't try   
to make a break for it."  
  
He smiled. "I'll take your word on that, Miss McMahon."  
  
The word of McMahon wasn't worth shit, as many people in the ring had learned, and Amarantha knew that. The guard   
didn't seem too concerned, however, so she pushed open the doors and proceeded to walk around the building, pulling out her   
cigarette as she rounded the corner.  
  
Dammit, she thought. I left Shane's lighter on my dresser. From a distance, she could see someone's outstretched arm   
from behind a fenced in area marked "Keep Out," and there was a lit cigarette in it. Praise the gods.  
  
"Hey, you got a light?" she asked, coming around the fence to looks straight into the face of Hunter Hearst Helmsley   
a.k.a. JP, her fake brother-in-law.  
  
JP looked up and smiled. "Hey, Ama." He peered at the cigarette between her fingers. "I didn't know that you smoked."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "I didn't know you smoked either. Please don't give me the speech. I've gotten it from Shane a million   
times."  
  
JP shrugged, digging in the pocket of his tight jeans and withdrawing a lighter. "Hey, that would be the pot calling the kettle   
black. I won't ride you about it."  
  
She took the lighter with a smile, lit her cigarette, and then tossed it back to him. Taking a drag, she sat down on the curb   
beside him. "Thanks. What are you doing here, anyway?"  
  
He rolled his eyes. "Working with the writers. I got sick of their bullshit so I came out here to smoke since Pops doesn't   
allow smoking in the building."  
  
Amarantha nodded, understanding his annoyance. Over the years, she had grown close to several of the wrestlers in the   
WWF, but no one more so than JP. He was an asshole in the ring, but in real life, he was one of the best friends she had.  
  
"What are you doing here?" he asked, turning to look at her.  
  
Amarantha sighed. "I stole Dad's Jeep yesterday, and a day at Titan is the start of my punishment."  
  
"You stole the Vince-mobile?" he echoed, his eyes growing wide. "Sheesh, that's a gutsy move, Ama. You've really   
graduated from the level of stealing wallets. You must be getting better."  
  
Amarantha smiled, pulling the wallet she had taken from his back pocket when she sat down from behind her back. "You   
bet."  
  
He shook his head and took the wallet from her. "You're the best, Glimmer."  
  
Amarantha smiled at the use of the nickname he had given her when he found out that she liked the Stones, after the   
original Glimmer Twins, Mick Jagger and Keith Richards. He had taken her to a concert for her last birthday. "Anyway, he went   
postal, and here I am. I predict that I'll be spending quite a few days here in the very near future."  
  
"Actually, you probably won't," JP responded, flicking his cigarette. "We've got a Pay-per-View tomorrow. We all fly out   
early tomorrow morning. It's in Houston."  
  
Amarantha's heart jumped. "I totally forgot."  
  
"And knowing McMannequin, he won't let you out of his sight," JP continued, lighting another cigarette. "That means you'll   
probably be coming to Houston with us."  
  
Amarantha grabbed his huge arm. "This is the best news I've heard all day. You're right, you know. He doesn't trust me   
to be home alone for the weekend. He'll have to bring me with him. Oh, JP, this is great! I'll finally get to be there for some of the   
real action."  
  
"Who knows? Maybe he'll let you take part."  
  
Amarantha scoffed. "He won't let me do that when he's not royally pissed at me. There's no way in hell he'll let me do it in   
his current state of mind."  
  
JP shrugged. "Give it time, and he'll realize that you could be something that the WWF really needs-a fifth McMahon with   
total and utter contempt for her father. You could be the antichrist."  
  
She smiled, nodding her head. "Maybe you're right. It's what I want to do more than anything. I'm dying to get in that ring."  
  
"I know, Ama. Your day will come eventually," he replied, standing up and stretching. "Well, I've got to get back in there.   
The writers are trying to screw me out of air time, and I can't let that happen."  
  
"Thanks, JP," Ama responded. "You're always the person I can talk to when I have something on my mind."  
  
He bent down and kissed her on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, hopefully."  
  
"Hopefully," she agreed, watching him go.  
  
Maybe JP was right. Her time would come, and when it did, she would make sure people stood up and took notice of her.  
  
  
  
  
The ride home started out as tense and uncomfortable as the ride to work had been, and Amarantha knew that she   
would have to speak up soon before they got back to the house. She'd lose all her nerve if she had the rest of her family as an   
audience.  
  
"Dad," she began, peering at him cautiously.  
  
"Yes?" he answered, his voice cold.  
  
She took a deep breath. "What's going to happen to me this weekend when everyone is gone for the Pay-per-View?"  
  
He didn't turn to look at her. "You're coming with us."  
  
"Really?" she squealed, jumping up and down in her seat.  
  
"But you'll remain at the hotel under guard for the entire weekend," he added.  
  
She stopped jumping. "What?"  
  
"You heard me," he replied.  
  
"Dad, that's not fair! I never get to go to these things, and when I finally do, you're going to put me under lock and key for   
the whole time?" she whined, her voice rising several decibels.  
  
"This isn't meant to be a reward, Amarantha," he explained, finally looking at her. "I'm not going to give you something that   
you want. You stole my car. That is very serious. Don't you understand that?"  
  
She sighed, her shoulders dropping. "Daddy, I said that I was sorry. What more do you want from me?"  
  
"I want to know that I can trust you," he answered, and the words sounded like the executioner's axe falling to cut off her   
head.  
  
"Dad, I only stole the Jeep because I want one of my own," she replied. "For some reason, I thought that it would make   
you realize how badly I want one."  
  
"You thought that by stealing my Jeep it would convince me that you are responsible enough to have one of your own?" he   
replied incredulously. "You've got to be kidding me!"  
  
"I know that it's stupid, but it didn't seem like it was at the time," she retaliated. "I didn't do it to make you mad at me, you   
have to believe that. I'm really sorry."  
  
Vince sighed. "Amarantha, you know that I do everything to make sure that you are safe and protected, don't you?"  
  
She nodded slowly.  
  
"Something isn't right between us," he said, taking the exit toward Greenwich. "It hasn't been for awhile now. I keep getting  
this rebellion, and I don't know how to handle it. I never had this problem with Shane or Stephanie, and it's new for me. You're still   
my baby girl."  
  
She smiled as he reached out and put his hand on her cheek. "I'm still your baby girl, but I'm not a baby anymore, Daddy.   
You have to understand that. You can't keep everything from me."  
  
"I agree totally, and that's why I think it's time that I told you," he replied.  
  
Amarantha's heart skipped a beat. "Told me what?"  
  
"Amarantha, your mother and I are getting a divorce."  
  
For some reason, the words didn't come as much of a shock. Deep down, she had expected it for some time. "Oh."  
  
"We thought it best not to tell you right away, but Shane and Stephanie have known about it for a while," he continued.   
"They are all right with everything. Are you?"  
  
"Well, I mean…" she fumbled over her words. "I'm not happy about it, but I'm okay with it, if it's what you think is best. I   
don't want you to be unhappy, Daddy."  
  
He nodded. "She's going to be moving out next week. Shane is going to remain living with me, and Stephanie hasn't   
decided yet, but she will probably stay as well. If you want to go live with your mother, that is…"  
  
"I want to stay with you," she interrupted. The thought of being separated from her father was terrifying.  
  
He smiled. "Okay, then. I'll tell Linda."  
  
Amarantha sat in silence for a few minutes before she had screwed up enough courage to tell her father something that   
had been on her mind for quite some time.  
  
"As long as we're being honest," she started, "I've got something I want to tell you."  
  
"Okay, I'm ready," he replied.  
  
"I don't want to go to college," she said. "I know that I have to, and that I will, but it's not what I want to do with my life."  
  
"What do you want to do?" he asked, sounding as though he already knew the answer.  
  
"I want to be added to the storyline," she replied. "I want to be in the ring with you, Shane, and Stephanie. I want it more   
than anything I've ever wanted before, and I know that it's what I want to do."  
  
"I had figured this day would come," Vince answered. "Shane and Stephanie went through the same thing, and I couldn't   
say no to them either."  
  
Had she heard him right? "W-what did you say?"  
  
He turned to her, smiling. "I said, I couldn't say no to them, and I can't say no to you."  
  
Her eyes widened. "Do you mean it, Daddy?"  
  
Vince nodded. "They wrote you into the story today. It seems JP had something to do with it, so you can thank him. He   
created the perfect role for you."  
  
Thank you, JP! "Oh, Daddy, I'm so happy! Thank you!" She leaned over and wrapped her arms around him. "I love you   
so much!"  
  
"I love you, too, Princess," he replied.  
  
She pulled back and bit her lip. "Oh, yeah, and something else."  
  
"Yes?" he asked.  
  
"I smoke," she replied.  
  
"I know," Vince answered, as Amarantha's eyes bulged out of her head. "What? You didn't think I could smell the smoke   
from those disgusting menthols in the Jeep when I got it back? Come on, dear. Your old man is better than that."  
  
Amarantha laughed.  
  
  
  
  
Amarantha was still awake that night when Shane came home. It was a little past one in the morning, and the rest of the   
house had gone to bed. She was awake, making some final decisions on her character--her character. The words sounded so   
good, so perfect. She was finally getting her chance.  
  
She heard the front door open, and her heart began racing as she heard Shane coming up the stairs and down the hall.   
There was a knock seconds later.  
  
"Come in," she called softly.  
  
The door opened, and Shane stumbled in, five o'clock shadow on his face and the smell of alcohol emitting from him.  
  
"Hey, sis," he said, his speech slurred.  
  
Amarantha got up off of her bed and walked to him. "Shay, you're drunk. Go to bed."  
  
He pointed to hers. "I was planning on it."  
  
She put her hands on his chest. "No, go to your bed. You need some sleep. We fly out early tomorrow morning."  
  
Shane smiled. "Yeah, I heard that they made you a character. That's great."  
  
"Thanks, Shay. Now go to bed."  
  
He put his hands on either side of her face. "Ama, you're so beautiful."  
  
Amarantha felt herself blushing. He leaned forward to kiss her, but the smell of alcohol was so strong that it made her   
gag. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug. He leaned his weight against her, his head on her shoulder. "Oh, Ama.   
What are we going to do?"  
  
"I don't know, Shay," she answered, fighting back tears. "I don't know."  
  
"Please stay with me tonight," he whispered. "I don't want to be alone."  
  
She nodded, and carefully walked him to her bed, sitting down gently. He kicked off his shoes and curled up in a ball, his   
head in her lap. She stroked his hair gently and hummed the song that he always sang to her when she couldn't sleep.   
  
Suddenly, Shane lifted his head. Amarantha gasped. She thought he had been asleep.  
  
"Ama, you were a virgin before me, weren't you?" he asked, his eyes bloodshot.  
  
Amarantha blushed. "Yes, Shay, I was."  
  
He bit his lower lip. "I'm sorry you weren't my first."  
  
Amarantha shook her head. "Shay, you were married. You're thirty years old. I couldn't expect you to be a virgin."  
  
He sat all the way up, resting on his hands. "That's right. I was married." He paused, looking at her. "I never told you   
this, but Marissa was pregnant about seven months ago."  
  
Amarantha's eyes went wide. "What?"  
  
He nodded. "Yep. She was pregnant with Shane Jr."  
  
"Oh, Shay," she whimpered, putting her hand on his chest. "What happened?"  
  
"She threw herself down a flight of stairs in the house because she said she couldn't be responsible for bringing another   
McMahon into the world," he replied flatly. "She killed my son because she hates me." A tear slipped over his cheek.  
  
"Oh my God, Shay," Amarantha responded, her other hand flying to her mouth. "Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
He shrugged. "It didn't seem important. Who cares? My marriage is over now, and my baby is dead."  
  
Amarantha recoiled at his apathetic words. "Who cares? My God, Shay! You had a son! It was your baby, and she killed   
it! What do you mean, who cares?"  
  
Shane shook his head, drawing in a deep breath. "Maybe I was never meant to have a son. Maybe it's in God's fucked up   
plan that I should never be able to hold my baby."  
  
Tears began falling over Amarantha's flushed cheeks. "Oh, no, Shay. You are meant to have a child. Someone as caring   
and loving as you is meant to have lots of children."  
  
Shane looked her dead in the eye. "I wish you could have my children."  
  
Amarantha didn't respond at first. How could she respond to her brother-her BROTHER-telling her that he wanted her to   
have his children. "Shay…"  
  
"I do, Ama," he repeated. "You would be the best mother in the universe." He stopped, looking away from her. "I know   
that can never happen, but it's a nice thought, I guess."  
  
Amarantha stared at her brother, then moved her hand to his cheek. "Shay, if I could, I would love to have your children."  
  
He smiled at her, then put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her to him. "We can go through the motions, can't we?"  
  
Amarantha sighed. "Shay, we shouldn't. You know this is wrong."  
  
Shane nodded. "I know it's wrong, but goddamit, Ama, why should something so wrong feel so right?"  
  
She didn't answer him-she couldn't because she had no answer to give other than to press her lips to his and sink into his   
embrace. She pushed him down onto the bed, and then pulled away momentarily to turn off the lamp at her bedside. They furiously  
pulled at each other's clothes until they were there, staring at each other, naked in the moonlight spilling in from the window.  
  
"God, you're beautiful," he whispered as she lay back down with him, their hot flesh melding together as if they were one.   
His lips found hers, his name on them, as for the second time they met in the most intimate embrace imaginable.  
  
"Shane…" she whispered as he entered her, and Amarantha surrendered herself completely to the desires that would damn   
them both for eternity. Shane pushed against her, driving himself farther and farther inside her, and Amarantha gasped for breath as   
she felt herself approaching the release for which she knew she was aching. He pulled her to him, crushing her against his body,   
like a lion protecting its mate. He was protecting her, the way he always had, keeping her safe from anyone and anything that dared   
to hurt her. Amarantha's body reached its climax at the instant Shane met his, and then collapsed onto the bed together, trying, in   
vain, to catch their breaths. The tears ran over Amarantha's cheeks as he enfolded her into his arms, and quickly fell asleep.  
  
Minutes later, Shane was snoring and Amarantha was crying. What am I going to do? She loved him so much, and there   
was nothing that she wouldn't do for him, but this was too much. Something would have to be done. The feelings they had for each   
other were wrong, and they had to stop.   
  
Amarantha only hoped she could do just that.  
  
  
  
  
Amarantha stepped out of the McMahon-Helmsley Faction limo, script in hand. She was headed to her dressing room as   
the rest of her family, fake and real, had to shoot a promo that she couldn't be in because they had a special introduction planned   
for her. Shane was still incredibly hung over after a long plane ride most of which he spent in the bathroom vomiting. Amarantha let   
him have his space and spent the whole ride talking to JP about her character. He was more than happy to help her out and give   
her pointers, and Amarantha couldn't stop thanking him for all that he had done for her.  
  
The dressing room was at the far end of the arena, and Amarantha had to keep apologizing to everyone for carelessly   
bumping into them. She just couldn't get the lines right. There was only about an hour to go before the show started, and she still   
had to cut a promo.  
  
The plan was simple: the night's main event was a battle between JP and a mystery challenger. The buzz among the fans   
and on the Internet centered around The Rock coming in as the mystery challenger because he was the obvious choice. Originally,   
that was the plan, but after the last minute addition to Amarantha McMahon to the line-up, a change had been made. Duane had   
been very understanding when Amarantha explained to him what was going on, and he had wished her luck on the night's events.   
Amarantha had always liked Duane, and she accepted his good wishes graciously.  
  
The Rock would have resulted in a huge pop from the audience during the main event, but the writers had found someone   
even more incredible who would draw a bigger response. The doctors had called in late Saturday night and it was confirmed: Stone   
Cold Steven Austin, her father's biggest in the ring rival, was ready to return to action after months of rehabilitation. He was more   
than willing to take Amarantha on as a partner, and Amarantha was lucky that he was so willing. It would only help to further the   
story, which centered on her character's intense dislike for the family that had kept her hidden for so many years, and the bitterness   
she felt toward them. Austin was McMahon's enemy, and it was only right that her character should join up with someone who   
hated Vince as much as his daughter did.  
  
Everyone had been briefed on the events of the night, especially the announcers, Jerry "The King" Lawler and JR. They   
would play an integral part of the plan, informing everyone watching at home as to exactly who she was when her music started   
up and she walked out to face the crowd that she had waited to be in front of for so long.  
  
Amarantha smiled as she pushed open the door to the dressing room, a transformed locker room. Her music had been a   
delicate choice. They needed to select something that would convey the absolute terror and destruction that little Amarantha   
McMahon would bring into the lives of her father and the Faction. They had finally decided on the opening piece from Carl Orff's   
opera, "Carmina Burana," the music she had heard so many times in the movies. The music was quite frightening, and it had   
been used in several promos and commercials in the past. It would be perfect for her.  
  
"Miss McMahon, we're ready," a voice called from the hall outside the dressing room. She had barely had time to check   
her hair and make-up before it was time to shoot the promo. She was new at this, and it would take time to get used to the   
inner-workings of the wrestling world. Amarantha scurried out into the hall and headed to the place where they would be shooting   
the promo.  
  
She saw her father, Shane, and Steve waiting for her as she arrived. Steve hugged her warmly. They hadn't actually seen   
each other since the time she visited him in the hospital right after his surgery. "How are ya, Ama?" he asked, in that gruff voice   
that always made her smile.  
  
"I'm good. A little nervous, but good," she answered, taking a deep breath.  
  
"You're going to be great," he assured her. "Are you ready?"  
  
She nodded. "As ready as I'll ever be."  
  
The idea of the promo was ingenious. It would be a shot of Amarantha's silhouette up against a dressing screen in Steve's   
dressing room. There would be audio of her talking to someone seated on the couch, going on about how she'd been waiting for a   
long time to get back at the McMahons and how badly she wanted to get them. Then Steve would stand up and display that   
unmistakable bald-headed profile, hopefully producing a huge response from the crowd. This would set up the intro that would   
happen right before the main event.  
  
Once the promo was shot, Amarantha rushed back to her dressing room to get ready for the big time. She had selected   
her favorite outfit-leather pants and a shiny halter top that somewhat resembled those that Tori of DX wore-both purple, of course.   
(The purple leather pants had been a real find in Paris. Her father hated them, of course.) For once, Amarantha didn't feel   
self-conscious about the way she looked. When she was younger, the…womanly assets that she had been…blessed with were   
the source of her shame. Now, the twins, as she called them, were what made her…stand out (pardon the pun.) The approving   
looks from the men backstage only encouraged her. This was her night to shine.  
  
Amarantha had her script in hand until the very last minute when Steve ripped it away from her and threw it into the   
trashcan.  
  
"Hey!" she yelped, glaring at him.  
  
"You don't need that," he explained, flicking a piece of lint off of his leather vest. "Just go out there and be yourself. That's   
all there is to it. I'm sure that you've got some penned up hostility just waiting to break free."  
  
"Believe me, I do," she answered, as her father, Shane, JP, and the rest of the Faction came out of their dressing room.  
  
"Are you ready, Princess?" Vince asked her.  
  
She smiled and nodded. "Yep. Wish me luck."  
  
"Good luck," the whole Faction said in unison.  
  
The group all proceeded to the curtain area to wait for the music to start. Shane threw Amarantha a secret wink as the   
sounds of the McMahon theme, "No Chance In Hell," started up at full volume.  
  
The arena outside the curtain erupted in a mixture of boos and cheers, and Vince lead the Faction through the curtain, each   
of them assuming their character roles as if they were slipping on masks.  
  
Amarantha took a deep breath. The time was drawing near. It was all she had ever wanted, and it was about to happen.   
She had to make it good. The desire to prove to them that she was indeed a McMahon was what drove her.  
  
"Miss McMahon, you're on in thirty seconds," the tech behind the monitors said suddenly.  
  
Amarantha nodded, taking a deep breath. Steve came up behind her and squeezed her shoulders. "You're going to do   
great."  
  
She smiled.  
  
Suddenly, she could hear her father and JP talking over the microphones.  
  
"All right, Rock, we know it's you. Just come on out so I can kick your ass again."  
  
Amarantha stepped to the curtain as the Carmina music started. She counted to three then went through the curtain, a   
microphone of her own in her hand. The crowd went wild, though most of them had no idea who she was. She put on her most   
smug and bitchy look as she heard The King and JR going crazy on the small monitor that was embedded in the floor of the stage   
so she could see how she looked.  
  
"Dear God, could it be her? Could it be the 'other McMahon?' It is-it's her-Amarantha McMahon, the youngest daughter   
of Vince and Linda McMahon, who has been hidden from the public eye all these years. Amarantha McMahon is here!"  
  
"Oh my God! The Faction is speechless! Look at Vince! He doesn't know what to say, and look at the Giant Killer and   
Stephanie! They are not happy to see their younger sister! It's utter confusion!"  
  
Amarantha tried not to smile as Shane and Stephanie gave their best performances, trying to look as though they hated   
their sister. Her father was just staring, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, as she put the microphone to her lips.  
  
"Hello, Dad, Shane, Stephanie," she said calmly and clearly. "I bet you didn't expect to ever see me here. In fact, I don't   
think you ever wanted to see me here!"  
  
"Amarantha, honey, what are you taking about?" Vince stammered, staring at her.  
  
"You've kept me locked in that house for years, Dad. You and Shane and Stephanie have been in the spotlight all this time   
while I've been at home, biding my time, trying to find a way to get back at you. And guess what? I found a way. This night, my   
dear family, is when I get my revenge for all the misery that you've put me through-the three of you. I've watched and your precious   
Faction all this time, and now I'm going to get all of you. I've got your mystery challenger, Triple H. He's an old friend of yours,   
Dad, but I don't think that you're going to be very happy to see him. I'm overjoyed, on the other hand."  
  
The signature breaking of the glass signaled the arrival of Stone Cold Steve Austin, and the entire place was on its feet,   
cheering and waving signs hysterically. Stone Cold came out from behind the curtain, his hands on his hips, a microphone in his   
left one. Amarantha watched her family's reaction with a look of complete glee.  
  
"I think we got ourselves a new t-shirt," Stone Cold growled into the microphone, looking at Amarantha. "'McMahon 3:16   
says "Bitch Broke Bad on Dear Old Dad.'"  
  
The crowd went wild again as Stone Cold tossed his microphone and barreled down the ramp, heading toward the ring.   
The rest of the Faction cleared out, and the fight between Triple H and Stone Cold began. Amarantha made her way down to the   
ring at a leisurely pace. Things were going better than she could have planned. The crowd had really responded to her, mostly   
because of Stone Cold, but she had been the one to bring him back, so it reflected well on her.  
  
The match was over quickly, Stone Cold reclaiming the title with a series of stunners, and the crumbling Faction cleared   
the arena almost immediately, with the three McMahons all casting backwards glares at Amarantha. The three of them were   
incredible performers, and she had never really noticed it before that night.  
  
Stone Cold was making his customary visit to each of the four turnbuckles, and then walked to the center of the ring and   
hoisted Amarantha up on his shoulders. The voices of The King and JR drifted up from the side of the ring as they celebrated the   
victory, and Amarantha basked in every instant of it.  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen, what we have seen here tonight is beyond explanation. The world was introduced to the youngest   
McMahon, and what an introduction it was. Vince and the Faction will definitely have their hands full trying to deal with the   
Princess in Purple in the days to come. Amarantha McMahon has made her presence known, and it's not likely that she will fade   
out of the picture without a fight. A new era in the WWF has begun here and now, and it is the Era of Amarantha. Goodnight!"  
  
  
  
  
Once she and Stone Cold reached the backstage area, Amarantha ran into the open arms of her father, smiling broadly.  
  
"Oh, Princess, you were wonderful out there!" he exclaimed, holding her tightly. "You were amazing!"  
  
"Thank you so much for this, Daddy," she whispered, kissing him on the cheek. "I can't believe I actually did it!"  
  
Vince released her, and she walked over to Stephanie who hugged her tightly. JP picked her up and spun her around, then   
offered a congratulatory handshake to Stone Cold. Shane was nowhere to be found.  
  
"Where is Shane?" she asked, brushing her fallen hair out of her eyes.  
  
Vince shrugged. "I think he had to go make a phone call or something. Don't worry. You'll see him soon enough. Right   
now, we're going out to celebrate!"  
  
A round of cheers went up, and everyone dispersed and headed to their dressing rooms to change. Amarantha walked   
arm in arm with JP to her dressing room, beaming from ear to ear.  
  
"You really were incredible out there, Ama," he said as they reached her door. "I knew you could do it."  
  
"I suppose I owe it all to you," she replied, smiling. "You don't know what it means to me."  
  
He shrugged, waving a dismissive hand. "You deserve it, and it's no problem. It's the least I could do. I care about you,   
Ama, and I want to see you happy. If a life full of body-slams and clotheslines is what you want, then who am I to stand in the way   
of that?"  
  
She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, again."  
  
He stepped back, blushing. "I'll see you in a few."  
  
She nodded, opening the door to the dressing room. "Okay."  
  
Amarantha shook her head again, unable to believe exactly what had happened. She barely noticed Shane sitting on the   
couch waiting for her, and jumped when she saw him.  
  
"Jesus Christ, Shay! You almost gave me a heart attack!" she snapped, walking to the vanity mirror.  
  
He smiled, pushing himself up off of the couch. "You were incredible out there, Ama. I'm so proud of you."  
  
Amarantha sat down in the chair in front of the mirror, smiling. "Thanks, Shay. I had the best time. I'm so happy that I've   
finally had the chance to prove that I do have what it takes to be a McMahon."  
  
"You definitely do," he replied softly.  
  
An uncomfortable silence lapsed between them. Amarantha brushed out her hair, pretending to be engrossed in her   
appearance. Shane just stood behind her, his arms crossed over his chest, looking as though he had something on his mind.   
Amarantha knew he did because it was the same thing she was thinking.  
  
"Ama, we need to talk about what happened the other night and last night," he began quietly.  
  
Amarantha turned around to face him. "Yeah, we do."  
  
He crouched down beside her, taking her hands in his. "I love you so much, Ama. You mean everything to me. You   
always have. You have to understand that before I can continue."  
  
"I know that, Shay, because I love you, too," she answered. "I might love you in ways that I shouldn't, but I love you more   
than anyone else in my life."  
  
He smiled, nodding. "It's because I love you so much that we have to forget that what happened." He bowed his head, his   
cheeks flushing. "I mean, they were the most incredible nights of my life, but it can never happen again. Do you understand what   
I am saying?"  
  
Amarantha nodded, squeezing his hand. "I feel the same way."  
  
"You do?" he replied, looking up at her.  
  
"Yes," she answered. "I love you so much, Shane, but I know what we did is wrong. I want that kind of relationship with   
you, but not if it will ruin the one that we already have. It's a relationship that I have come to love above all things in my life. I can't   
stand to lose you because I love you. You are everything to me, Shane. Don't you know that? You always have been."  
  
Shane put his head down, smiling.  
  
Amarantha put a hand to his cheek, and he looked up at her. "You keep me safe, Shay. You protect me from everything   
and everyone, including myself, and you can't protect me if you're fucking me."  
  
"Don't curse," he said with a smile.  
  
She smiled back at him. "Oh, Shay, I want things to go back to the way that they were before all of this. I don't want this   
to change anything."  
  
"It hasn't," Shane replied. "You're still my little Ama, and I can still whip your ass at anything, but now, there's something   
more. That's all. If nothing more than being eerily incestuous, this has brought us closer than ever."  
  
"Good, then that's where I want us to be," she responded, leaning forward to wrap her arms around him.  
  
He hugged her back, taking a deep breath. "I just don't want to let you go, Ama. I feel like if I do, I'll never get you back."  
  
"You're never going to lose me, Shay," she replied, burying her face in his shoulder to hide the tears that were starting   
to fall. "No matter what happens, I'm always going to be right here."  
  
"I love you, little sis," he whispered.  
  
"I love you, big bro," she replied.  
  
And she did, and Amarantha knew that she would forever, in more ways than anyone could imagine.  
  
  
  
The McMahons stayed in Houston for another week, taking a well deserved and much needed vacation. Amarantha spent   
most of her time conferencing on the phone with the writers back at Titan about the upcoming storyline for her character when they   
returned to Greenwich.  
  
Things had never been more perfect for Amarantha. There was still a little tension and uneasiness between she and Shane   
when they were alone together, but somehow they both seemed to fight off the desires that they both had inside and keep things   
safe.  
  
She had her Shane back, she had her storyline-she had everything.  
  
  
  
  
"Ama, wake up, we're almost home."  
  
Shane's voice broke through the deep sleep that Amarantha had been enjoying on the ride home from the airport. The last   
week in Houston had been exhausting, and the jet lag wasn't helping. She opened her eyes, and found him staring at her. She had   
fallen asleep against his shoulder, and she had a terrible crick in her neck. She sat up and rubbed the sore spot, seeing that they   
were turning onto the road on which the McMahon estate was located.  
  
"Jet lag hit you hard, didn't it, Princess?" Vince said, looking at her from across the stretch limo.  
  
"Always does," she answered, dragging her hands through her tangled hair. "I think I need some more sleep."  
  
"You can have your nap once you finish those thank you notes," her father answered, looking at her sideways. "That's one   
thing that I promised your mother I would see that you do."  
  
In all the excitement, Amarantha had forgotten the news that her father had told her the day before she began her career,   
and it all came rushing back. Her mother and father were getting divorced. She wouldn't be there to enjoy Amarantha's success.   
Suddenly, Amarantha was incredibly sad.  
  
Her sadness didn't last as they pulled into the driveway, and she saw it--the purple Jeep--sitting next to the Vince-mobile.  
  
"What the hell?" her father said suddenly.  
  
As soon as the limo came to a stop, Amarantha scrambled over Shane and jumped out, running toward the car of her   
dreams. Is it really? Is it for me? As she drew closer, she saw that the rear vanity plate read "Ama." Her heart was racing as she   
looked inside, and the key dangling from the ignition had a key chain like her father's that read "Princess" on it.   
  
She turned to her family as they piled out of the limo, her father with a very cross look on his face. "Is this for me?"  
  
"Apparently so," Vince answered.  
  
"Oh, thank you, Daddy!" she squealed, rushing toward him.  
  
"Well, I'm sorry to say, this was not my doing," he answered, putting up his hands. He turned to look at Shane, who had   
his hands in his pockets and was staring at the ground.  
  
Amarantha turned to him as well and put her hands on her hips. "Shay?"  
  
He looked up and grinned sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I saw it in a lot before we left, and it just screamed her name."  
  
She rushed forward and jumped into his arms, laughing. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" she gushed, kissing him   
on the cheek.  
  
"You're welcome, you're welcome, you're welcome," he replied, pulling back from her. "Well, what are you waiting for, sis?   
Get in there and try her out, but be careful."  
  
Amarantha turned to Vince. "Can I, Daddy?"  
  
He rolled his eyes at Shane, and then nodded reluctantly. "Be back here in an hour."  
  
She clapped her hands and ran to the Jeep, hopping over the door. Just like it had in her father's Jeep, the seats seemed   
as though they were meant for her. She turned the key and the Jeep roared to life. Remembering to put on her seatbelt first,   
Amarantha put the car in reverse and backed down the driveway, waving to her father, Shane, and Stephanie. The gentle breeze   
felt great in the heat, but it was nothing compared to the wind that blew through the open Jeep as she cruised down the road.  
  
Everything was going to be fine. She and Shane would go back to the way things had been. Life would go on as it always   
had. They were McMahons, and the McMahons endured, and would forever.  
  
Amarantha was on her way home from her town-wide cruise when she noticed the tape sitting in the tape deck below the   
CD player. It had a piece of paper taped to it, and something was scrawled on it in Shane's handwriting.  
  
"Ama, I mean this…always. Love eternally faithful, Shane."  
  
Amarantha shook her head and pushed the tape into the player. The song that came out was an all too familiar one, and   
the tears rolled over her cheeks before she could stop them. It was a Bon Jovi song, one of her favorites, and Shane had   
remembered and dedicated it to her. "I mean this…always," his words had said, and she knew that she would feel the same   
way…always.  
  
And I will love you always, baby, always  
And I'll be there forever and a day, always  
I'll be there `til the stars don't shine,  
'til the heavens burst, and the words don't rhyme  
And when I die, you'll be on my mind,  
And I'll love you, always  
  
…what I'd give to run my fingers through your hair  
To touch your lips, to hold you near  
When you say your prayers, try to understand  
I've made mistakes, I'm just a man  
When he holds you close, when he pulls you near  
When he says the words you've been needing to hear  
I wish I was him cause those words are mine  
To say to you `til the end of time  
  
And I will love you always, baby, always  
And I'll be there forever and a day, always  
  
If you told me to cry for you, I could  
If you told me to die for you, I would  
Take a look at my face, there's no price I won't pay  
To say these words to you  
And I'll love you, always…  
  
  
The next morning, Shane awoke to find a note and a present lying on the pillow beside him. He looked at the note strangely  
before ripping open the nicely wrapped gift. His mouth dropped open as he looked at it.  
  
It was a book-  
  
Of baby names.  
  
"I've got a present for you, too, Shay. I hope you like it. Love eternally faithful, Amarantha."  
  
Shane passed out cold.  
  
~~*THE END*~~  



End file.
